He read my poetry
And so I become owned by him
He read my poems deliberately
And I began to love myself more
I discovered
That I miss love a lot
I have a new sweetheart
His age is one year and one month and six days
My advice to him
Is to love with devotion of qais
Never to be unfaithfull
For I know the taste of betrayal very well
It resemble the fire of trees
When a tree is burnt
The earth cries copiously
I harbour vindictive feelings against man
It orders its granddaughters the roses
To stick their thorns
In his fingers
But he does not care
And pulls the roses from their roots
And they also cry
And so
He would have betrayed
The tree, the earth, and the rose
